


who laugh like they would fall apart

by likewinning



Series: little beasts [68]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5274626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I need you, Jay," Bruce says, and Jason hates, <em>hates</em> that it still gets him like a fishhook through the guts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	who laugh like they would fall apart

**Author's Note:**

> forrrr my favorite ohmcgee, who puts up with me in this terrible time of drought.

"I need you," Bruce says down the line, and Jason doesn't think about how long he's been waiting for Bruce to say that, just asks, "What is it?"

"A job," Bruce says. "There's been -" he cuts himself off; none of them trust their phones anymore after Dick swore up and down that he'd been tapped. It's _Dick_ , so he was probably coked up and paranoid, but better to be _safe_ and all that.

"Will you meet me at the house?" Bruce asks.

"Yeah," Jason says, even though he knows it means that fucking _kid_ is going to be there, sleeping in Bruce's bed like -

One time, when he and Bruce were strung out on coke from one of Bruce's new suppliers, he carved his name into the headboard right above where he slept. It hasn't been so long, but he wonders if it's still there.

"You want me to get the others?" Jason asks.

"No," Bruce says. "Just you."

Jason's dick twitches at that like it's fucking trained (and it pretty much is) but he doesn't say anything, just hangs up and packs his shit.

 

*

 

When Jason gets to the house, it's completely quiet. He sets his bag down and then checks the living room and the kitchen - dishes in the sink, a towel on the floor covered in what looks like blood. He leaves everything where it is and walks down the hall until he reaches the study, where Bruce is cleaning one of his guns.

"Jesus," Jason says. "It's like a fucking ghost town in here. Did you let one of the housekeepers go or is that her blood in the kitchen?"

Bruce doesn't answer. Jason sits down across from him, kicks his feet up on the desk. "You gonna tell me what all this is about? Bruce," he says, when Bruce still doesn't answer. He gets back up and walks around the desk until he's standing over Bruce. "Bruce. Hey." He puts his hand in Bruce's hair, then runs his fingers along Bruce's beard, tipping Bruce's chin up so he'll look at him.

"Terry's been stabbed," Bruce says then, and Jason shoves him so hard he nearly topples over.

"Jason, wait," Bruce says, because Jason's already moving, headed out of the study.

Jason stops in the doorway, laughing even though he feels ready to fall apart. " _Jesus_ , Bruce," he says. "You have got to be fucking _kidding_ me."

"No," Bruce says. Jason barely sees him move; all at once Bruce is standing over him, breathing down on him. "I need you, Jay," Bruce says, and Jason hates, _hates_ that it still gets him like a fishhook through the guts. It's fucking pheromones and Pavlov's Bell all rolled into one.

When Jason doesn't move, doesn't just fucking _deck him_ and go, Bruce explains, "I wasn't with him. I don't know who did this. I don't - I can't do this without you."

Jason looks up at him, even though it's fucking killing him to do it right now. "You're really gone for him, huh?"

Bruce doesn't answer, doesn't really have to. He puts his hand on Jason's shoulder and says, "I won't let this go. Will you help me?"

Jason wants to tell him no, wants to tell him to fuck off, wants to storm out and start the kind of fire that Dick would kill to see. But he doesn't. He feels the weight of Bruce's hand on his shoulder, and he says, "Yeah, B. Of course. Where do we start?"

 

*

 

They stop at the hospital first. Bruce goes in while Jason waits in the car; he tells Jason he can come with, but Jason figures if he goes in he's just going to want to finish the job some ineffectual asshole started, _so_. That's a not-so-polite _no_.

"Well?" Jason asks when Bruce gets back to the car. He tries not to notice how shaken Bruce looks, but fuck, he's been looking at Bruce, watching Bruce, _learning_ Bruce for years - he knows.

"He doesn't remember anything," Bruce says. He scratches his neck and then starts the car. "They've got him on a lot of drugs." He smiles ruefully, and it reminds Jason a little bit of the look Bruce gets when he talks about Dick. "He was _on_ a lot of drugs."

Jason snorts. McGinnis makes the rest of them look like saints, as far as that goes. "Shocking," Jason says.

"Mm," Bruce agrees. "Dick said hi, by the way."

"You've got him playing _bodyguard_ up there?" Jason asks. He's not even sure why it's got him so pissed off, aside from the fact that it's McGinnis taking away more people he -

Jason clears his throat. "So now what?"

Bruce tears out of his parking space just about loud enough to wake the dead. "Now we hit the club."

 

*

 

Breaking into the club is easy. They go in through the back, and Bruce doesn't even bother picking the lock, just busts through the security door like some kind of rabid beast.

"Lunatic," Jason mutters, but he brushes past Bruce into the room.

It takes ages to look through the camera feeds. Jason gets impatient, starts pacing around the room, wondering why he even needs to _be_ here.

"Jay," Bruce says, his eyes still on the feed. "Sit."

"Slight chair shortage around here, B," Jason says. "And -" Bruce grabs him by the hips and pulls him into his lap. Jason forgets to _breathe_ , and Bruce puts his head on his shoulder, says, "Be _still_."

They watch the cameras together. Jason leans back against Bruce's chest, even though he's way too big for this anymore. It takes him back to being sixteen, some punk kid who'd curl up in Bruce's lap during meetings, squirming around until -

Bruce is hard, beneath him.

"B," Jason says. He can feel Bruce's breath on his neck, can smell whiskey and aftershave and when he tips his head back, Bruce pops open the buttons on his jeans and slips his hand inside. "Fuck," Jason says. He's half-hard, but just Bruce's hands on him - callused and scarred and fucking huge - gets him all the way there.

Bruce doesn't talk, doesn't say anything, just tips his head down and scrapes his teeth along Jason's shoulder while they watch the cameras. He gets Jason off slow, gripping him hard, murmuring in his ear the whole time - things Jason doesn't want to hear, things he _needs_ to hear. He rocks back against Bruce when he comes, and Bruce brings his messy fingers up to his mouth and licks them clean.

Jason turns his head to look at him, but Bruce's eyes are back on the screen. "There," he says, reaching forward to pause the feed. Bruce takes out his phone and takes a picture of the screen, and Jason knows Barbara will have a name and address for them within minutes. Jason doesn't even look. He doesn't care. He slides out of Bruce's lap and down to the floor. He doesn't come back up until his jaw hurts.

 

*

 

If Jason's honest, he knows Bruce doesn't need him for this. Hell, Bruce doesn't really need any of them for _anything_. Sure, they make more money now, but Bruce has been rolling in it since before he even found Dick, there's no -

They drive past Robinson park, past Crime Alley. Jason sees the corner where he used to work, wonders if any of those kids are still around. He used to check in on them all the time, until he got caught up with Tim and Roy and - Bruce.

He didn't burn up his past like Dick did. He just let it fade.

Jason rubs at his neck. There's a bruise there from Bruce, another on the other side from Tim. He wonders how Dick puts up with never having anything that's just _his_.

"Bruce," Jason says. "What am I doing here, huh?"

Bruce doesn't say anything for a minute. Jason rolls the window down so he can smoke, and Bruce doesn't even threaten to push him out of the car like he has before. "You're helping," Bruce says finally. He looks at Jason from the mirror. "I've missed this," Bruce says. "Missed - us."

Jason snorts. "And you thought your new boytoy getting stabbed was a great way for us to bond?"

They park in front of a building Jason recognizes from years ago. Roy lived here once, on Ivy's dime. She nearly killed him after Roy used some of her potted plants for target practice.

"It hurt you," Bruce says. "I never - I didn't think you'd care."

"I don't," Jason says. His mouth tastes like ashes, and he can't look at Bruce. "You can fuck whoever you want, Bruce. I know -" Jason clears his throat, pulls at the lock on the door and says, "Let's just get this over with."

It's the first time he's said it like that. Usually, Jason craves violence - not like Tim, not like Dick, but it's still - there. That anger that never really left him, no matter how many years he spends working for Bruce, no matter how many heads he breaks, how many -

The apartment's on the third floor. They take the stairs, moving quick but soft, not speaking - they're at _work_ now. At the door, Bruce listens for any noise, any movement. Jason expects him to knock, but instead he breaks the door down and -

It's over in seconds. Jason has his gun, his knives, but Bruce snaps the guy's neck like he's a twig, like he's nothing, and -

Jason remembers the last time he got hurt, how Bruce came back to him covered in someone else's blood, smelling like so much smoke and ash, telling him with nothing so much as a smile that everything was taken care of.

The body falls to the ground, and Bruce looks over at him. "Call Dick," he says. "He'll take care of the rest."

Jason nods and makes the call - tells Dick they need something picked up and rattles off the address - and Bruce -

Bruce didn't _need_ him for this.

He's not sure Bruce ever really needed him. All those years, all the things Bruce used to say to him -

"It's done," Jason says. "Let's go."

They shut the door behind them, but Bruce stops him in the stairwell, puts his hand on Jason's shoulder. "Thank you," he says, and Jason turns back to look at him.

"For what?" Jason asks. "I didn't do a damn thing. You didn't _need_ me for this, B. Why -"

Bruce stops him with a hand on his throat, stops him with his mouth, and Jason opens for him like he's fucking programmed to do it, lets Bruce fuck his tongue into him, lets -

"I always need you," Bruce says. He sucks Jason's jaw, licks at him like some fucking animal. "But when you left -"

"I didn't _leave_ ," Jason says, and it's a growl, something fierce and hungry and Jason pushes his body closer to Bruce, needing - everything.

"When you _left_ ," Bruce says, shoving Jason's shirt up and scratching at the ink there, the tattoo Jason got with Dick that Bruce was _furious_ about - 

( _I don't want anyone else marking you_ , Bruce said then, and Jason was sixteen and stupid and believed everything Bruce said. _You're mine._ )

"I needed," Bruce says. "I was -"

And Jason almost laughs at the thought of some millionaire killer-for-hire being _lonely_ , but he's too busy _moaning_ when Bruce wraps his hand around him again. Huge hands, killer's hands, one around his dick and the other around his neck and Jason _whines_ and says, "B, I want - not _here_."

He wants Bruce inside of him, wants to _feel_ him for days the way he used to. Wants Bruce to mark him up, wants -

Needs -

Everything.

They make it to the car, and Bruce drives to a safehouse twenty blocks south that Jason didn't even know existed. Bruce pulls him out of the car, all but hauls him up the stairs, and Jason's too blindingly hard to pay attention to what passcode Bruce punches in, or the fact that the place is covered in enough weapons to go to war with Gotham. He can't think about anything but Bruce's mouth on him, tearing at his skin, Bruce's hands shoving his clothes up and off.

"B," Jason says, when Bruce gets down on his knees and breathes over his dick, taking him in just to taste it before he lets go again. "Bruce, I want -"

Bruce swallows him, and Jason knows every sound out of his mouth is un-fucking-dignified, but he doesn't _care_.

He's -

He's fucking _missed_ this.

He doesn't know he's said it aloud until Bruce looks up at him, killer's eyes, eyes he's stared into too many times and only wanted more.

Bruce sucks him like he's starving for it, using his tongue like some kind of weapon, pulling off to suck on his balls and then turning him _around_ -

"Jesus christ," Jason says when Bruce gets his tongue inside of him. Maybe sobs it, he doesn't even know anymore, doesn't know anything but the perfect stab of Bruce's tongue, the way Bruce _sucks_ at him like -

"Need you," Jason says. He thought it would take everything in him to say it, but Bruce makes it so _easy_. "Bruce, will you -"

"Anything," Bruce says, and he _bites_.

"Fuck me," Jason says.

" _Yes_ ," Bruce says.

Jason kicks his boots off on the way to the bed, leaves his jeans in the middle of the floor. Bruce tugs Jason's shirt over his head and kisses all down his chest, licking at scars Jason's forgotten about, the knife wound from Tim or maybe Roy that only just healed, until Jason pushes him back and says, "I need to see you."

It's been too long. It's been since - since that _kid_ \- and Jason pushes it aside, traces new cuts and bruises, traces everything that used to be _his_. He drags Bruce's trousers down, breathes in the scent of Bruce he's never going to forget before he settles back against the mattress.

"Fuck me," Jason says again.

He doesn't shout when Bruce pushes inside of him, just bites Bruce's jaw, bites his mouth until he tastes blood. He grips Bruce with his thighs and scratches his nails down his back, thinks of sitting on top of Bruce and working the knots out of him, thinks -

"Harder," Jason says, and Bruce grunts and thrusts hard enough to move the bed. Jason's so full, and all he wants is more. He drags Bruce back down again and kisses him, whines when Bruce sucks on his tongue.

"Jay," Bruce says. "Jay, I -" Jason pulls Bruce's hair and pushes back against him. He doesn't want to hear anything Bruce has to say. He -

"Do you fuck him like this?" Jason asks, and he almost laughs when it makes Bruce flinch, but he cups Bruce's face in his hands and asks, "Do you think about me?"

"You know I do," Bruce says, growls, thrusts in brutally before pulling almost all the way out. "You're - mine."

Jason does laugh this time, but Bruce isn't lying - he's a heartless thief, maybe, but not a _liar_.

"Come back," Bruce says, and Jason kisses him, bites down and makes him bleed again, groans into Bruce's mouth when he angles himself - just - there. Jason pulls back and uses all of his strength, all of his training to flip them. Bruce stares up at him, his eyes blown and his mouth bright red.

"Idiot," Jason says. "I never left."

Bruce doesn't say a word, just gets his hands on Jason's hips like they've never belonged anywhere else and Jason rides him until his thighs burn, until sweat drips down his back, until all he can feel and smell and _taste_ is Bruce. He knows when Bruce is about to come by the shake in his jaw, the flash of something dark in his eyes, and he _clenches_ and Bruce shouts -

fills him _up_ -

pulls him down for another kiss and another until they're both bleeding from it. Bruce grabs him and for the second time that day he comes from Bruce's hand.

They're still then, covered in sweat and blood and come, and as soon as Bruce pulls out Jason knows he's going to have to go, get right back to being angry and hurt and -

"I want," Bruce says. He licks Jason's come from his fingers and Jason shivers for it. "I want to see you. Not just - for a job."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "You finally gonna admit you didn't need me for this one?"

Bruce glares at him. "I don't want to choose," Bruce says. "But if you're asking me to -"

Jason covers Bruce's mouth with his hand, laughs when Bruce rewards him with a long, wet lick. "All right," Jason says. "You want me, you got me." He knows it's not that simple, not really, but right now he's too fucked-out to care.

"Good," Bruce says. He lifts Jason off of him - fucking _gently_ \- and Jason asks, "So, that shower back there big enough to fit both of us?"

Bruce gives him a look like he means _what do you take me for._ "Of course," he says. Jason nods, slides out of bed and tugs Bruce with him. Really, he should be expecting it when Bruce lifts him up and throws him over his shoulder like he weighs nothing at all.

"Fuckin' beast," Jason says. Bruce pretends not to hear him.


End file.
